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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25479472">Motivating Empathy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha_Trickster_Kat/pseuds/Alpha_Trickster_Kat'>Alpha_Trickster_Kat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A+ Parenting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Canon typical body horror, Canon-Typical Violence, DID I MENTION THE SWEARING, Haruno Sakura Deserves Better, Haruno Sakura-centric, I'll add more tags as the story progresses, Inner Sakura - Freeform, InoShikaCho, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kekkei Genkai | Bloodline Limit, Levels of shitty parenting still pending, Naruto worldbuilding, Original Character(s), Protective Haruno Sakura, Psychological Horror, Reincarnation, SI as Sakura, Self-Insert, Surprise Clan heritage sakura, Swearing, Team as Family, The Haruno's A+ parenting (Naruto), Uzumaki Naruto is a Good Friend, Worldbuilding, attempted social climbing fails thankfully, canon typical psychological horror, canon typical trauma, friends with the monster inside my head, like a lot of swearing, look Naruto can be messed up if you think about it, look yall this is a happy fic but i gotta be thorough, no beta we die like men, now how do i explain, protect uzumaki naruto, self insert reincarnation, slow burn canon divergence, slow burn realization of self insert status, slowburn progressively worse parents, sweet sunshine boy, team 7 as therapy, unoffical adoption</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:40:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25479472</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha_Trickster_Kat/pseuds/Alpha_Trickster_Kat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Are you telling me that after being reincarnated into a new family that actually speaks Japanese, I really got named a weeb name like SAKURA? It had better have some good Kanji.<br/>.<br/>.<br/>.<br/>Shit I'm gonna have to learn Kanji</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Haruno Sakura/Her Own Agency</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>oc self insertSI</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. (Dis)Orientation 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A loud noise pierces a cold sterile room, the beep of machines and wail of alarms cutting across a frazzled commotion. A shuffle, a scuffle, murmuring and worry and concern and a spiraling spinning mess of dampened perceptions further covered by the sound of breathing in my lungs and blood rushing in my ears. Life and living and existing turning into a bag of cats, like a well-manufactured car once in perfectly crafted purring sync slowly coming apart by inches day to day into something cracked and dented and going to pieces. The air conditioning is sputtering, the windows won’t roll down, there’s a knocking and a clattering from the engine, grinding from the gears.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on hon, work with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“- organs might-“</p><p> </p><p>“Get me- worried- not taking-“</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘I’m not dizzy. But I feel dizzying… dizzying? Dizzy like? Spun and whirlybird sitting… quietly? It’s quieter…’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“She - isn’t breathing-“</p><p> </p><p>“Erratic - faltering-“</p><p> </p><p>“Air to- blood- heart-“</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Mumbling tumbling what? What? Things are… happening… not? Nothing is. Happen. Much. Maybe? Perhaps? Perchance? Purchase… a second a moment a year, buy it get it get… a… life? I have- not one - but- two! Who needs- you needs- none to have- maybe - perhaps- perchance- a chance? Seconds, perchance, a second per chance? -es oh- hy? Bu- abo- -y si- r? Ove- - k - wh- - Ga- m- - v-e- P- - y A- - i- n- ? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -w-r  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -h- - s- - d- rk-  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> M-m-m- - -n- c-e  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -hmm </em>
</p><p>
  <em> H-mmm- mm  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -? Wh-t- -o-ng on? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> L- - don- - ike  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Pre- -r-e  </em>
</p><p> </p><ul>
<li><em>ca</em></li>
</ul><ul>
<li>Wha</li>
</ul><ul>
<li>Nnnnnnnnnnn</li>
</ul><ul>
<li>Mmmmmmmm</li>
</ul><ul>
<li>Yuyyyuyfhfih??????</li>
</ul><p> </p><p> </p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>+</p><p>+</p><p>0</p><p>0</p><p>?</p><p>??!</p><p>
  <em> !?!?!?!?! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It- s - loud  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bri-ht </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I - can-  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Brea-h? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yyyyyyyynnnnn </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wha </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Awake - ca- - reath? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Can breath </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -ts bright t-o bright but </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Noiseeeee? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Many - much- lot - things </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Many many many many things things people  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> People- ? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not breathing- “</p><p> </p><p>“- wrong? Her-“</p><p> </p><p>“-airway might- blocked-“</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Again? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> People things and things things people again again this just happened - why - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> -*+!! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> —hrk  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Whu- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -a-aaaa </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Whanmmm- WHUH-HA AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”</p><p> </p><p>“-seems- “</p><p> </p><p>“- a scare but-“</p><p> </p><p>“- Healthy baby girl!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wha </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em> WHAT? </em>
</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>On a beautiful day in March, a young couple has had a most unusual daughter.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. (Dis)Orientation Cover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Arc 1 (Dis)Orientation Cover</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'll be posting art for this fic on my artist Tumblr sometimes: Tricksterkatartthings https://tricksterkatartthings.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. (Dis)Orientation 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakura is a foul-mouthed little gremlin who is not having the best of times</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A resounding ‘What’ seems to be the theme of things for a while. I feel muffled and sensitive and oddly stressed in the manner of someone waking in the night to light shining in their eyes - grumpily discontent with the state of myself and the world and the universe as a whole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Honestly, I haven't felt like this since I was out with Mono for half a year in middle school. The general disorientation and head swimming when I move it too much isn't exactly disproving the comparison, and sometimes I wake up in that odd feverish middle ground where you patiently wait to be tired enough to go back to sleep and suddenly feel bereft I can't just mindlessly watch videos until I feel better. Not that I’d manage to understand it. My ability to see or coordinate anything are both completely out of wack which is driving me insane, my thoughts being disjointed and going off in tangents isn't helping, and for all I feel like I have some kind of super hearing there’s nothing to listen to!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No music, nobody taking me anywhere, and I seem to be in a room that isn’t near much of anything interesting- I could be on top of a mountain or in the lost city of Atlantis for all I know. Oh, I get picked up, fed, and cooed at in semi-regular intervals but I get the distinct impression I am being fit around a pre-existing schedule, which… I mean fair? I don’t know the situation. For all I know I’m in a weirdly bare hospital being monitored for severe hallucinations. Makes about as much sense as every fucking thing else that could be an alternate explanation. What else am I supposed to think? I’ve been sent to a magical world of giants for healing?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I mean I could just accept that I-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>NOPE nope nope I don’t have all the necessary information to pull together a plausible conclusion!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and swims like a duck…?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well maybe it’s a goose, didja ever think about that?! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You just don’t want to think about-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m not trying to avoid anything!!! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Really?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yes really!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So your-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Don’t!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your family isn’t here</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I said don’t!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your mom</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stop!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your grandma</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I said stop it!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your aunts</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>NOTHING HAS HAPPENED AND EVERYTHING IS FINE AND IT'LL ALL BE PERFECTLY OK WHEN I'M NOT SICK ANYMORE!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh? Sick? Now you’re sick? You aren’t sick. You aren’t stupid either. You read enough to know what happened </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don’t know SHIT! I’m not-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not what? Not in a new place with no way to get back?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not Alone?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, that’s not what’s really bothering you. It’s one specific thing, you know exactly why you don’t want to admit it</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Don’t-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You just don’t want to admit-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>HOE DON'T DO IT-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That you aren’t a big sister anymore </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Downstairs, a young mother groaned. It seemed her daughter had graduated from constant sleeping to constant crying, which was not a particularly welcome change at all. The mother sat grumbling to herself for a moment before letting out a beleaguered sigh and heaving herself from the seat she was sprawled over. She with much reluctance tromped up the stairs, walking to the door at the end of the hall and entering her new daughter's room. When she finally reached her daughter she swiftly checked her for accidents (no) checked if she was hungry (also no) and determined she was just being fussy for no reason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, everything is bright and terrible, oh no oh no,” she said somewhat consolingly. “Awake is not fun or comfy, no no no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her daughter continues to cry, but quieter once she starts talking. It seems she will continue to be a miserable little mochi for the foreseeable future, but at least not a wailing one. The mother will just have to work with what she can get.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mother’s pretty girl should look over here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m not sure how this woman expects me to DO that given I can’t lift my head. This woman- ‘Mother’- has been bugging me to somehow turn and look at her every day this week and it would be getting old fast if I wasn’t so lacking in stimulation. Seriously, I would be crawling the walls if I was physically capable of it. I feel my face scrunch into a slight pout.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mother wants to see her daughter’s little face!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this I can’t help but scowl and whack my little hands and feet on the fluffy thing I’m laying on. What do you expect from me Mother. I am an Infant!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“that's an uncute face!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Weeb.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>… wait a fucking second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was that Japanese? Were you speaking Japanese this whole time? Was I *listening* to Japanese this whole time??? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Also, rude. 'Kawaiikune' to you too, you slicked back All Might hair with an overgrown Superman curl looking motherfucker- </span>
  </em>
  <span>ok, no, not cool, be nice, you’re mad at the situation, not her, she hasn't really done anything wrong. Wait, she’s talking again. What are you actually saying?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okaa-sama-" 'Sama'? Really? "-Dekiru!” Ok, I missed part of that in the middle but I know what you said. ‘Mother knows you can do it!’ Indeed. Well Daughter knows she CAN'T do it, because her neck and upper body muscles are not developed to that point yet Mother. Now if you were NEXT to me instead of BEHIND me I might have been able to turn my head a bit with some effort, but to look at you right now I would have to sit up at a 90-degree angle and spin my head backward like an owl. I am not an owl Mother. I am also not capable of sit-ups. I am an infant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ara, Sakura-chan-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Are you- are you serious?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Are you telling me I was actually born into a Japanese speaking family and I got a Basic Bitch Weeb name like SAKURA?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nope. Nuh-uh. Nah. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I am not about this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mother, be prepared for the Queen of All Tantrums, All Others Cower Before Her, Powerful are Her Lungs, Long Be Her Reign, May The Gods Have Mercy For She Shall Not. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ok, no, calm down, maybe it isn’t actually that bad. I mean, maybe it SOUNDS basic but has really interesting or significant Kanji-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...I’m gonna have to learn Kanji.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MOTHER FUCK</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And here we have an infant's rendition of Screamo Singer On Helium Tries To Out-Cry Wailing Banshee, The Opera, Because We Couldn’t Justify Calling This A Musical And Our Lawyer’s Cautioned Us Against Lawsuits Due To False Advertising By Fallout Boy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sakura is a foul-mouthed little gremlin who is not having the best of times</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. (Dis)Orientation 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everything is fine</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Something amazing has happened!!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over the past month or so I’ve noticed my vision beginning to clear, just a bit, so that looking around my immediate vicinity no longer makes my head swim. It has also made seeing further away Physically Possible, colors and contrast taking the first steps to being discernible, though still blurry and indistinct.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is not the amazing thing that happened though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is a window in the opposite wall from where my crib is facing, and during the day a rectangle of light from it passes in front of me. Normally, this is unimportant, aside from getting an occasional startle from a bird quickly flying by and causing a sudden fast-moving shadow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But this! This is new!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A kitty is on the window ledge!!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well I think it’s a kitty anyway. My vision is still indistinct like I said, but whatever it is has four legs, is floofy, and has a long tail. It can be hard to guess more, given my baby eyes and only a shadow silhouette on the other side of the room to work with. There’s always the possibility it’s some sort of raccoon, or possibly an extremely weird squirrel, but I believe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I believe in you, visiting window ledge kitty!</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why hello hello, Sakura-chan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who the fuck are you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time in my waking memory, the person hanging over my crib is NOT Mother. Nor is it Visiting Window Ledge Kitty, who I have discovered! Is actually the Elderly neighbor lady’s cat!! Who likes to sun herself - himself? Themself? - on the windowsill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, this is not Mother OR Kitty. It is a very strange man. I mean, bonus points for the spiky purpley magenta hair but seriously- who are you, why are you here, and is there a purpose to your dedicated punk starfish impression sir? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hear you’ve been causing your Mother some trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I'm about to give YOU some trouble if you don't start answering my questions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well," he says, picking me up and settling me against one shoulder "Let's see if I have a bit more luck."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Excuse me?! Did I give you any indication that this was allowed?! No! Have at thee!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he holds me a bit tighter as I begin to fuss and work myself up to a proper ruckus.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Cmon, none of that."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nope! I gave you no type of permission to pick me up! Stranger Danger Stranger Danger! I have a half-full bladder and I'm not afraid to use it! Initiating wet diaper in 3…2…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed. "Be nice for your Father won't you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...you have a stay of execution, carry on Punky Starfish. Or, Father, I guess. Ugh and again with the 'Sama', that is not happening. Honestly, anyone wanting me to refer to them as ‘Sama’ that I have not personally chosen to elevate to that status can present their case to me with documentation and receipts while facing my judgment. You and Mother will get a ‘San’ and like it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father sighed again as if he somehow managed to divine my thoughts and had decided he was too preoccupied to attempt to convince me otherwise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Success. The first round goes to me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With me still leaning on his shoulder he casually exited my room, which was both new and exciting. Mother usually stuck to being in my room with me, with the exception of cleaning me up in the little ensuite bathroom whenever my baby body decided I’d been clean for too long. </span>
  <span>Outside my room, I discovered we were at the end of a hallway with several other rooms in it. Diagonally on the other side of the hallway was a staircase that was split into two halves so that when you reached the landing at the bottom of the first half you turned back around to go down the other half. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fun, when you were being carried and trying to see everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>after going down it opened to a little alcove with a closet in front of us, the staircase to the right and the left open to a living room. Through the living room I could see what looks like an entrance I think? Is blurry. An opening in a different wall seems to lead to a large hallway, and the last one seems to lead to our destination- a kitchen!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father wandered into the kitchen, up to a dated looking fridge and picked out both a bottle(!!) Of what I assume is milk (!!!) Before leaning down and opening a small latch? in the floor? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...We have a secret compartment in the kitchen?!?!? It looks like it was built into the floor? Father isn't acting like this is a strange or secretive occurrence??</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hear a somewhat surprised huff from the body I'm leaning against and look up to see Father looking at my face in amusement. Clearly whatever look is on my face is quite entertaining because his own face slips into an almost reluctant grin and he decides to educate the poor ignorant baby. The ignorant baby approves of this response, this should happen more often. Take note Father.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This is a storage cubby for things that like cool dark places. See? There's food hiding inside."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I look back and notice several jars and jugs inside, of all different sizes. The only thing I actually recognize is what seems to be some sort of pickled vegetable, but most of the things I don't recognize; either because its container is opaque or it's a very large jug of liquid with things floating in it. No Father seriously, what is that? It looks like it belongs on a shelf in Snape's Potions classroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father pulls out a large earthenware jug with a cork in the top and I have a sneaking suspicion I know what it is. I eye Father Suspiciously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He carefully leans back up and slides the compartment shut with his foot, meandering back out of the kitchen and around the corner back into the living room. Father walked in front of the couch before he leaned over placing the jug on the floor between the cushions and the coffee table. Finally, he sat in an awkward way on the couch and then laid back with his head on one arm and his feet on the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was carefully adjusted to lay on my stomach on Father's chest, then was left be as he started reading through some papers that had been on the table- mail? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is new. This is different. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is boring. Father, entertain me!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hear a noise of offense and for a moment I think Father has once again divined my thoughts directly from my little baby brain. But no, he is still looking at the mail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father. Father tell me the mail's secrets, for I cannot turn my head nor can I read. Tell me. TELL ME!!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Smug bastard," Father says in disgust "Must be so happy right now. Honestly. Look at this!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He holds up the letter to the side of his chest where I could feasibly see and I obligingly look at it. Yep. That's a letter alright.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He thinks he's being generous. Bastard is trying my patience- ughhhh!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father grimaced and reached for the jug on the floor, popping open the cork and taking a swig directly from the spout. Well, that confirmed my alcohol theory, but now I'm invested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"None of this would be happening if Father would just stop dragging his feet and actually DECLARE me as his heir," Father said in a low, gruff voice. "If I have to deal with one more uppity cousin, I might just strangle them. But no, even while they're being smug, smarmy assholes if I said a single word against them or didn't act like I was absolutely DELIGHTED to be in their presence it'd be disapprovingly whispered across the village for a month."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father grumbled for a bit longer and took another swig of his drink. "Maybe if we can get you a little brother quick enough that'll shut them up for a while. We'll go to the little playdate and see how Delighted they are then."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wow Father, tell me how you really feel. No seriously, you can’t leave me hanging like this. I need details. I’ve been sitting twiddling my thumbs in my crib for however long, I crave stimulation. You CAN’T just dangle family drama in front of me and walk away. Nooooo Father, no bottle, Tea THEN milk. C’mon, why is there a succession crisis? What’s being fought over? What are you trying to be heir of? Is it a Mob thing? AM I A MAFIA HEIRESS? Father! Tell me! Tell me tell me tell me!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alas, it was not to be. At some point in the day, I slipped into a nap and was back in my crib when I woke back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I want to go to sleep, but the light is on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's a minor thing, right? A mild discomfort. So what if I close my eyes and see the backs of my eyelids? It’s the same when the light is off, it’s just too dark to notice that you’re staring at the back of your eyelids when the light doesn't penetrate the skin. People fall asleep during the day all the time. People fall asleep outside in their yards, sunbathing at pools and beaches. Hell, people fall asleep in tanning beds with bright lights low broiling their skin to golden browns. Compared to that, this is nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mother and Father always bicker back and forth, that's normal for them. They challenge eachother and it's fun, or they complain about things to eachother, or they try to one-up eachother, or or or… the list goes on. Arguments flare up, are heated for an hour, and then are resolved or forgotten or are abandoned for a new more interesting argument. Sometimes they become jokes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is a bit different. They seem to have come across an argument that they have to resolve but can't seem to agree on. Whatever it is keeps coming up and both Mother and Father are getting sick of not resolving it, yet they’re both staunchly sticking to their guns on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-Is fine-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-try for-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-said just one-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-need-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-tutoring-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-family think-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-to find a-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-perfectly capable-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’ve been arguing for a while today, so I guess they’re distracted. At some point Mother came in and fed me while muttering unintelligible things and Father came and hovered in the doorway while I was being burped. Mother was so annoyed she threw my spit-up towel at him and they finally had an argument over something else on their way out the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only they didn't turn the light off, and I’m tired. Infants sleep a lot and the overhead light is right over my crib and I can't turn it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can still hear the argument going on downstairs, but I'm used to that. Wow, that- sounds bad. No, I'm used to it from before, because I had a loft bedroom. It used to be a little den or living room thing, but I moved my bed in there because people kept bugging me when I tried to draw or write or work in the loft. They’d see me or the light on and call up for a conversation - refusing to remember that it was a workspace, so if I was using it I needed to be left alone. Eventually I got so sick of being interrupted I moved my workspace into my bedroom and my bedroom into my workspace and was finally able to work in peace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I just wasn't able to sleep in peace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The house was originally built much smaller, but someone added onto it long before we moved in. The loft was actually made to look down at a set of french doors that led outside. When the house was added onto, it was done oddly, leaving a strip of the patio in the middle of the house separating one living room from another. Bedrooms and other rooms all ended up coming off this one big space, with few doors. All of this to say if you were in the middle of the house, like my loft was, you heard Absolutely Everything whether you wanted to or not. </span>
  <span>In a house with two night-owl insomniacs, two early-to-bed morning people, and a cat who’s sleep schedule was optimized to get pets and food 24/7, in addition to hearing every electronic in the house and people randomly flipping on the lights… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah. it took getting used to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I managed, obviously. The noise eventually stopped waking me up once I was already asleep and people tried to be quiet around 1am to 3am, which is when I would get to sleep if I was going to manage it before morning. A careful application of either soothing teas or scented oil or an hour loop of some song I decided made me tired, or the other direction of coffee or spicy things or reading to keep me up long enough to power through classes the next day and let me sleep at a reasonable time the next night kept me going when I couldn't manage on my own. Noise I can live with as long as it's consistently either loud or a dull roar, so an argument between my new parents is annoying but not enough to keep me up. I’d love to listen to music off my phone, not being able to is making me crazy, but I can deal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The light is right in my eyes though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I used to fall asleep with lights on all the time. I'd stay up late and fall asleep without noticing, only to wake at three or five in the morning annoyed and glaring at the light I'd accidentally left on for convincing my body to wake back up. I'd usually just roll over and sleep on my stomach. Or someone would flip on the living room light and I'd roll on my side to face the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I'm not quite old enough to roll over yet, is the thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can sorta fidget and rock a bit, but I can't get on my side or flip over onto my stomach. I'm a baby, and a small one, and I'm stuck looking up at the ceiling because that's how I was laid down and that's what I've got to work with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not a big deal, I can put a blanket over my face or something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only, my blanket is still folded by my feet from where it got cleaned and I can't reach it. I wiggle and stretch but aside from papping my little toes against the edge of it, I can't do anything. I can't do anything. I-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I'm</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m just</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A baby</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can't</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can't DO anything</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I'm not trying to do anything huge I just</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just roll over or</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blanket, that's not</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn't ask to be stuck here</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m an</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m an adult</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can listen to music </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can roll over and ignore a bit of light in my eyes</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can get up early</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can stay up late</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can turn the light off</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But I cant</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can't I'm stuck I</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I'm not supposed to BE here, I'm-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s ok.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m ok.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re Not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m just cranky because I’m tired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And Why are you tired?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because I want to sleep but the light is on.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Everything is fine</p><p>Bitch everything's on fire</p><p>I like fire</p><p>BITCH</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. (Dis)Orientation 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Introducing The Baby Potty Cannibal Cult Family Reunion</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Isn’t she just the cutest little flower you ever did see?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. My god. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s darling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty as watercolors, just like her mother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father. Seriously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, it’s her first time around new people - we thought it best not to bring her by strangers before family…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father, you spent the entire morning bitching and sulking about having to socialize with relatives, where the hell did all this embarrassing cheer come from?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Probably the same place as the weird clothes and decorations.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Early this morning I was awoken by a general hustle and bustle in the house that was uncommon. Things had been a bit odd this past week with my parents taking turns puttering about the house doing who knows what or going out of the house and coming back with either bags or a smug expression when they get home. Finally today Mother and Father came into my room with several things I quickly identified as baby clothes and started bickering about what I should wear; Mother leaning towards cutesy twee baby monstrosities that had to cost a kidney each and Father leaning towards what looked like an actual real multi-layer kimono built for a baby. which...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where in the actual fuck did you find that Father? Did you steal it off a decorative doll? Tell the truth, the power of baby compels you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After more discussion, they dress her up - in the tiny ridiculous kimono, of fucking course - and bring her downstairs where APPARENTLY the whole house has been decorated? there's going to be a party??? It looks a bit like a cross between a baby shower and a graduation party. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's nice tableware out, fancy boxes, and containers of food on top of a nice table cloth with a proper table runner that looks like it might be actual silk. The general colors of the room’s decorations seem to be pinks, light purple, and a range of different reds, oranges, and gold - colors that also show up on my little princess kimono, now that I'm looking. Wait, aren't there rules for color palettes for this type of thing? It’s summer but I only remember the colors for June were annoying because while I like green I don't like to wear pink or yellow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m dressed in what I think is an actual baby junihitoe - HOW - with a baby headband thing that has a gold-colored object on the front in the shape of a weird circle. There are several colors in my little outfit, due to all the layers, and different flowers and things. I know the flowers on top are ‘Nadeshiko’ because Mother and Father kept mentioning it but apparently the colors of the outfit are also Nadeshiko? Or nadeshiko like? Nadeshiko theme? And there's a different flower on the second layer part and more things??? Dude, there are so many layers I don't even know. I recognize the ginkgo leaves? And I’m just generally covered in things. Also tiny baby socks with little wood or plastic red clogs attached to the bottom? Don’t think they’re geta, they cover my toes, but honestly, I haven't exactly gotten the chance to look at myself in the mirror so. I'm pretty sure they’re decorative and possibly attached with glue or velcro or something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other thing? There's normal-ish food on one table but another table has weird soft food on it. Mushy rice, soup, fish? A few things, all in little black bowls with red insides and arranged around-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Is</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is that a baby potty?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why is there a random baby potty sitting in a place of prestige on a table surrounded by offerings of food? What.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mother. Father. Tell the truth. Are you on drugs? If you’re on drugs that is something I need to know. Because it’s either that or you are giving offerings to a baby potty and honestly at that point you being on drugs would be easier to deal with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that point, there was a knock at the door and I was promptly brought over to the table and carefully arranged to sit on the little baby potty while my dress underskirt covered most of it, making it look like I was a tiny chubby princess on an odd little throne.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From there lots of people began showing up and I got quite a bit of attention. Everyone seemed very preoccupied with me, and the idea of me eating. There were even two men with a large old fashioned camera that everyone seemed very impressed by, who took several pictures of the party and me in particular. Once again there was an emphasis on a bunch of well dressed old folk getting me to eat little bites of things, despite the fact I've only had milk before now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, all this might have been more or less normal if it was my birthday, but I know for a FACT it wasn’t. I was barely HALF a year old if I was even that yet. So I'm a random baby dressed as a princess sitting on a table (alter???) where people are leaving little food offerings and encouraging me to eat periodically. Suddenly my cult idea is holding WAY TO MUCH water. Am I being fattened up to be eaten? Are these people cannibals?? Am I going to be sacrificed??? Wait, does this have anything to do with Father claiming to be an Heir Apparent to something? Instead of the mafia was it the heir to a cult? What, does he have to sacrifice his firstborn child to be the heir to the Baby Potty Cannibal Cult? Mother! Father! If you’re going to betray me so horribly at least do it for a wine cult or something, you can do better than this!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time the pictures are done being taken it’s been a good while and now everyone is breaking into little groups to talk and eat from the other table. Mother whisks me off, potty and all, to another room where I trade the extra-long little underskirt for a diaper and the baby potty mysteriously disappears. I’m brought back, cooed over by adults for a bit, and then promptly absconded with by a group of under-tens.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which has led to my current predicament of playing dolly while I hear my parents do their best Dursley impression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shuffled and grumbled a bit where I was being held by an older child - who I have NOT been introduced to - in what seems to be the room all the kids have congregated in away from the adults. The adults are talking loudly in the next room. Or more accurately, MY adults are talking loudly in the next room, and the others seem to be gamely trying to keep up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Let me tell you, seeing my normally rather quiet but sharp-tongued low-energy father be… whatever the hell this obnoxious thing is has thrown me for a loop. I’ve never actually seen him socialize before but damn I didn’t expect this. Mother at least is less startling in that she isn’t acting like she got a personality transplant but like… even she’s playing up the doting mother bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Weirdos</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The child holding me seems to be about... fiveish? I’m bad at guessing ages, but he seems to be at about the youngest age you could reasonably hand a small baby to and not expect them to like… tip over or drop them. That's about five right? Eh, who knows. At least the loud ‘humble’ bragging in the next room has been useful for one thing, and that's informing me that The Baby Potty Cannibal Cult is made up of my relatives. Or at least my relatives are the part of The Baby Potty Cannibal Cult that were invited to the Feed The Baby party. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So this kid is a cousin of mine. He seems nice enough. Quiet, careful, seems utterly delighted to carry me around. Called me Hime-chan very solemnly, which is just cute coming from a little kid who seems to be entirely under the impression he’s been designated the chauffeur to a tiny baby princess. I mean, for all he or I know, I might be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cult Princess! Mafia Princess! Actual Princess! The possibilities are endless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kizashi-jii-san really is carrying on, isn't he?” one of the teenage cousins grouses unimpressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s so hoooooooooooooooooot, why is it so hot…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They put purple and white hydrangeas on their daughter’s dress, can you believe it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I heard a rumor that someone is going to make a whole SERIES of films! Not just one movie but like a whole set that goes together based on some books! It’s some displaced princess story, Princess Purin or something-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-and I said NO YOU and they said WHAT ME COULDN’T BE So I hit them and sensei got SO mad-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-wanna play ninjas Kenta?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s kinda tacky isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-’es my bear, no! No! Giveeeeeeeeeee itttttttttttttttttttttttt baaaaaaaaaaaackkkkkkkkk!!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nii-san I want candy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m 17, why the hell am I here in the baby room!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honestly it’s not that noticeable Mako, I’m sure your little girlfriend won't notice-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I hold the dolly Nii-chan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took me a moment to notice that the last comment was aimed at me, or rather at the little boy holding me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Botan-nii!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy jolted, I guess he didn’t realize he was the one being addressed either. He looked wide-eyed and a bit frozen. He took a small step back like he couldn’t help but pull himself away from her. Now that I think about it, he was standing away from the other kids isn't he? Aww, he’s shy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little girl, about a year younger than him huffed with an annoyed face, putting her hands on her hips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ooh, this was about to either be really bad or really entertaining.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give me the dolly ni-chan, it’s my turn with it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy - Botan? I thought that was a girl’s name? - seemed to twitch and scramble for the right thing to say</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Asa-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl seemed to puff up like an offended little bird the second she sensed a denial of her wishes and her face started to turn pink and blotchy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“IT’S MY TURN WITH THE DOLLY!!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We’ve now gotten the attention of the rest of the cousins, with the sudden yelling cutting over everyone else’s conversations. Everyone started asking questions at once and a few of the older cousins started to eye us as if trying to decide if they needed to step in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cousin Botan, on the other hand, looked like he was hearing alarm bells and starting to panic with the yelling combined with all the attention. I could almost see the little hamster going as fast as it could to try and articulate to this smaller child ‘Oh, you are mistaken. This is not a doll but is, in fact, a Baby. I am not sure you are ready to hold a baby, for they are heavy and you are very small.’ However, that brain hamster tripped and face planted into its little wheel because what actually came out was-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-NO!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Boy was that the wrong thing to say because with a shrieked ‘IT’S MY TURN’ the little girl cousin tried to PHYSICALLY GRAB ME.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now I don’t know if you’ve ever been fought over by two small children but I can assure you it is a very harrowing experience to be sure, especially if you’re around a fourth the size of the children at the time. The little boy was at least fighting to keep me steady and off the floor, but the girl was trying her tiny damnest to get me out of his arms by any means necessary, all with a backdrop of yelling cousins and loud questions and some rowdy kids on one side calling out the usual schoolyard chant of ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Cousin Botan had to swiftly rebalance me in both arms or risk dropping me on my head, leaving girl-cousin to triumphantly pluck me out of his arms with a shout about two inches away from my face. What does an annoyed baby who has just been jostled by shrieking strangers and nearly dropped do when someone screams in their face?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scream back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Let me tell you this four-year-old was NOT ready to have ‘her new dolly’ suddenly come alive and scream in her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I got to see the split second of her eyes going wide and her expression of shocked horror before she gave out her OWN blood-curdling scream and only a wide-eyed older cousin half leaping to grab me stopped me from being THROWN on the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So now there's screaming, crying, shouting, adults rushing in, everybody's trying to figure out what the HELL just happened through toddler tears and excitable children, the teenagers are acting like a bomb just went off and they’re trying to find and defuse the next one, and me?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was passed back to a worried and fretting Cousin Botan and I am just LAUGHING.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yall, this is the most entertainment I've had in MONTHS, I am a being of spite and chaos and I am LIVING.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, everything settles into a dull roar and the adults are just glad that nobody was hurt and that I seemed to find it funny instead of traumatizing - </span>
  <em>
    <span>ha </span>
  </em>
  <span>- and after little girl cousin - who’s name is apparently Asagao, another flower name, neat - was made to apologize everything seemed to wind down. The party was mostly over by then, so people started to trickle home. Cousin Botan and Cousin Asagao - apparently his little sister, that explained some things - turned out to actually be Father’s first cousin Tsuyoshi’s kids. The same ‘Cousin Tsuyoshi’ that sent Father the playdate letter that sent him cursing in the first place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don't know what YOUR problem is Father but Uncle Tsuyoshi seemed delighted that Cousin Botan and I got along. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ended up sitting on the floor with a lapful of a sulking Cousin Asagao and much happier Cousin Botan telling him about his day ‘chaperoning the little princess’. At this point, I had been up for HOURS and that combined with all the excitement of the day was enough that I started to nod off. I cuddled into Cousin Botan’s shoulder and fell right to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time I woke back up I was back in my crib in a fresh onesie and the party was long over. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The party is an Okuizome, a 'first meal' ceremony, which is more readily recognized by some as the 100 Days Celebration.</p><p>the Kimono - a Junihitoe, Heian period princess/female royalty kimono</p><p>Color theme - late summer, 'Nadeshiko' color layering theme of Beni (bright red with orange or pink undertones) Usumatsuri (light purple) and Moegi (a fresh green color)</p><p>Flowers - late summer/early autumn - Nadeshiko flowers, Purple and white Hydrangeas, Ginko leaves</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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